We’ve relocated for a year’s gig in Dubai. I am no longer retired. Weird. I, who had assumed and even vowed never to work again, may be back in the higher education business for a while longer. It doesn’t seem real yet because I haven’t show up for work yet. I’m sitting in the lobby of our hotel, surrounded by Russian tourists. It just got cold up north, and the prospect of bright sun and blistering heat appeals to our Slavic brothers and sisters. The sisters are often striking, tall, blond, and racily dressed.

Here, there are 11 expatriates to every 1 emerati. Last night we went to a fancy shopping mall and the emerati stood out, the men in their immaculate white robes.  Prices here are three times what they are in Thailand. Glad I’ll be employed in my time here.

The hardest part of all this is going to be the fact that I won’t be able to zip around on my scooter. There are no scooters here. It’s too hot to walk or ride a bike. I’m going to become taxi dependent. I hate taxis.

On the other hand, I probably won’t get injured in a traffic accident, and racing around Chiang Mai on my Cadillac of scooters, the Honda PCX150, it was only a matter of time before I would have ended up in the emergency room, conscious or not.

The interesting part about getting older is I have developed a faith in the inevitability of change. When I was younger, I was terrified of boredom. Now, I realize that from a larger perspective, nothing stays the same for long.  That can be something you either dread or eagerly await. I choose the latter emotion.